


Bee Prepared

by zvi



Category: Lady Gaga (Musician), RaPS, Telephone (Music Video)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dildos, F/F, Safer Sex, Vibrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-24
Updated: 2010-03-24
Packaged: 2017-10-08 07:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zvi/pseuds/zvi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gaga's got an itch that HoneyB wants to scratch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bee Prepared

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during the Paparazzi video

Gaga met her at the door, walker wrapped in pink and blue stripes that matched the bikini she was wearing, the plastic grass skirt that was taped to her ass. There were paparazzi behind B, there were always paps behind her, so she just brushed her girl with airkisses and asked, "How you feelin'?"

Gaga smiled brightly, fakely for the telephoto lenses. "I'm horny enough to fuck that snake, and he won't even come near me." She waved outside to whoever was waiting for a picture, then shoved the door closed.

The dull thunk pushed B further into the great room. "He doesn't like to be reminded of his work?" she threw over her left shoulder. She pulled her coral wrap off her right shoulder, revealing her own bikini/skirt combination, in lemon yellow.

Gaga shuffled in slowly, then lowered herself to a straight-backed chair with a wooden seat. "He doesn't like things that are cracked."

Honey B pulled up an ottoman and sat down, her legs bracketing Gaga's. She put one hand on Gaga's knee, the other on her thigh. "I can help you with that."

Gaga smiled, pushed over-sized rose-colored, rose-shaped glasses on top of her head. "Oh, you can, can you?" She leaned forward, reached out.

B closed her eyes and tilted her head upwards. She felt the points of Gaga's fingernails in a line on the side of her face. She leaned into the sting and said, "I want to fuck you." She heard Gaga breathe in heavy. "How do you want me to do it?"

"I want you to suck my cock," purred Gaga.

"Okay," said B. She opened her eyes and blinked slowly. "Do you need me to get it for you?"

Gaga's smile got wider, and she tapped her nails on the side of B's face. The sparkle from the stone in her nails glittered in B's field of vision. "Stand up. You're sitting on it."

B stood and looked down. Gaga extended a foot, painted like a sandal made of tiki masks, but footwear-free. She pushed the cushion off the ottoman, and B saw the latch. "Emergency sex supplies?" she asked.

"Be prepared.™ It's the Scouting Out Girls motto."

B laughed, leaned forward, and kissed Gaga. Their teeth clacked as they bit at each other.

Then she pulled back and dug around in the ottoman. She pulled out a condom, a tangle of leather straps, and a slim, green, silicone cylinder, more of a buttplug than a dildo. She held them up, and waited for Gaga's nod before she closed the ottoman up and restored the cushion.

Gaga stood slowly, put her hands on B's shoulders. B braced herself, but when Gaga spread her legs and dug her fingernails in B's shoulders, she still hissed a little. Gaga laughed and dug her nails in deeper. "Come on, Honey. Get me ready for you."

The only difficulty B had buckling the harness on was in keeping the plastic grass out of the fastenings. Slotting the dildo in place was just as easy. B didn't have to look to smooth the condom over it, instead she pressed her mouth to Gaga's as she unrolled the condom.

Gaga's mouth opened, and her grip on B's shoulders switched to one arm around B's neck, the other around her waist. B lowered Gaga into her chair, then kept going down Gaga's body, open-mouthed kisses trailing from breast to belly to peter. She licked the tip of Gaga's dick and then looked up, through her lashes, seeking a reaction.

Gaga looked interested but unaffected, so B applied some pressure, pushed the cock back and up with her teeth and tongue. She felt Gaga's thighs tighten under her fingers and backed away.

"No, come on," said Gaga.

B felt fingers in her hair, pushing her forward. She went with the pressure, pushed until her lips pressed to Gaga's vulva. She never choked; Gaga's cock didn't get anywhere near her throat. She sucked then, sucked hard enough she felt resistance from the harness, adjusted her grip on Gaga's thighs to stroke a thumb up Gaga's slit.

Gaga was damp and hot, and she spread her legs wider. B breathed in the scent of her, sweet and heavy, and pushed forward with mouth and thumb both. She got lost there, riding Gaga's quiet signals: a tug in her hair, a sigh muffled by the slick thighs pressed to B's ears, a subtle thrust under her chin. B could lay here forever, pushing at, gnawing on, sucking Gaga's cock, sliding her thumb in the hot slit that got messier and wetter.

Eventually, the tug in her hair was really serious, and B leaned back, wiped ineffectually at the puddle of drool and pussy juice drifting down her chest. "You done?"

Gaga shrugged. "The drugs giveth, and the drugs taketh away." Then she leaned her head back and smiled crookedly. "You're gonna get yours, though. You should always get yours."

B giggled. "Let me dig through your box of tricks." The emergency sex ottoman coughed up another condom and a shiny silver bullet. At this point, B was horny enough to not fuck around. She sat on the ottoman, spread her legs, and put the bullet right where she wanted. "You're gonna do this for me later?" she asked Gaga. "When you can mess around on a bed with someone, you're gonna kneel between my legs and stick your fingers and—," she cut herself off with her groans as she came, fast and hard and done.

Her eyes had drifted shut, so she wasn't expecting Gaga's fingers on her face, or Gaga's whisper in her ear. "As soon as I'm as good as I'm getting, I'll eat you _all up."_


End file.
